


Great Wisdom(teeth)

by an_evasive_author



Series: Mordor Inc. [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 05:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_evasive_author/pseuds/an_evasive_author
Summary: Melkor just had his wisdom teeth removed. Aule has ice-cream and Manwe has no nerves left. Together there might be something there to work with that.





	Great Wisdom(teeth)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how or why this happened, it just did. I am not very sorry.

It was an undeniable fact that Melkor had no chance of making it on his own for any mentionable amount of time. He was also not well liked which presented a whole other host of problems, for he had no one who watched out for him. It was... not entirely undeserved.

 

In fact, safe for Manwë and Aulë himself, there where very few who cared when Melkor dropped off the radar for a while and when Aulë or Manwë would see to him, he would have spent two weeks building a city made from things that really had not been intended to be build into something. Melkor went through frightening amounts of toasters and love seats.

 

The take-out boxes would have gathered in a greasy, spilled mountain of processed sugar and glutamate and the last time he had slept would have been on top of his last creation.

 

Aulë supposed Melkor was, deep down, a truly lonely person who was not fully aware that this did not fully content him.

 

And so, from long experience and a dreadful foreboding vision about just what would happen if they left him alone after Melkor had his wisdom teeth removed, Aulë had thought it best to inconspicuously drop in and check up on Melkor. It was the decent thing to do.

 

* * *

 

It was not Melkor who opened the door, but his brother. “Manwë; Good to see you. How was the trip?” Aulë asked amicably and carefully ignored the unenthused look Manwë gave him. Well, either unenthused or This-Close-To-Passing-Out. Aulë could not blame him.  
  
“Silent. Peaceful. Just what I needed after the competition. So of course the universe decides to scorn me by having me return to-” he waved his hand to gesticulate behind him. Aulë saw nothing but the floor. But he could most certainly guess what, or rather who Manwë meant. “Varda is already at home...She would not offer to stay...” Manwë sighed, “I cannot blame her and yet I very much would like to. Leaving me alone with him...”

 

Aulë nodded patiently as Manwë rambled, “I heard. It's why I'm here, actually. I brought ice cream; Heard that would help.” Seeing Manwë's impressive bags that coloured everything under his eyes a faint purple, he added “And coffee.”  
  
That did the trick and Manwë allowed himself a tired, deeply soul-weary smile as Aulë stepped past him into the house. “You are the light in this darkness never ending, my friend.”

 

“I try to be,” smiled Aulë and ushered a yawning Manwë into the kitchen to make coffee and return at least one of the brothers' sanity.

 

* * *

 

With his head resting on the kitchen table, Manwë enjoyed the pleasant coolness and counted on his fingers, “I already locked up everything solid, hid his credit cards, changed the combination on his cash drawer to my birthday--” sounding very morose now, “--so he will never get _that_ open... And stocked the freezer with coloured ice cubes so maybe he will drink some water... I am sure I have forgotten something and it will drive me up the walls...”

 

Aulë did not believe in ready made coffee grounds, which was why he had brought his own coffee grinder with him. It was one of the things that probably did not need that extra step and yet Aulë could not help himself. It had something satisfying about it when he made it himself.

 

Manwë did not complain and that was enough a reason to continue doing it. “How has he been? I can only imagine what he would be out for a while until the drugs wore off.”

 

Groaning, Manwë brought a hand to the bridge of his nose, “If only. The second he could walk two steps without falling over and he was off. I haven't been able to get him to sleep all night.”

 

Aulë hummed and served Manwë his coffee, with a heaping helping of milkfoam. “Where is he now?” he asked to keep Manwë awake.

There was a shrug that turned into a long stretch, “Last I saw him, he was screaming at the anthill out back. I have, of course, no earthly idea why. But when have I ever known anything about my brother?” Manwë asked sardonically and drank his coffee in long, desperate pulls. Some of the milk froth remained at the corner of his lip and he licked it away.

 

None of these things made him look any less elegant. Instead he raked a hand through perfect platinum hair and remained perfectly unaware that the way his hair tumbled over his shoulder was one of the reasons why he had so many devoted, adoring fans. His mastery on the ice notwithstanding.

 

Aulë closed the bag still half full with coffee beans, using the line of sticky tape that had been helpfully pasted onto the back of the package and placed it in one of the cupboards. He refilled Manwë's cup and allowed himself a peak out the window and into the gardens. Aulë knew where the anthill was, unfortunately it was too far off to the right to be visible in this angle.

 

Manwë caught him and shrugged, “Go ahead; Watch the Freakshow, for all that I do not care. I will take a shower before the caffeine wears off.”  
  
“Do that. Have a good rest. I shall see something done about food.”  
  
Manwë sighed gratefully and swayed on his way to the stairs. He turned his head to before he vanished up, “There is yoghurt and apple sauce in the fridge. The doctor said he could eat that. Or soup. Good luck with that.” And then he was gone.

 

* * *

 

There was one thing that made Melkor's _otherness_ easily apparent.

 

It was not the fact that all of his houseplants where plastic, plenty people had no talent with greenery and yet wished for the appealing sight of plants. Melkor had not bought them; Aulë doubted that, without his brother there would be any kind of decoration.

 

It was not his compulsive need to buy ugly sweaters and cut off the sleeves to make them somehow even worse. Though that one did not help.

 

It was not even the fact that he liked to donate puzzles to charity from which he had removed pieces on purpose; though that one was admittedly quite evil in its own right.

 

Perhaps today he had found a new low, or high, depending how one looked at it. Aulë felt rather mixed emotions at the sight.

 

He wished he had been there when it all had unfolded, instead of trying to make sense of the aftermath. On the other hand, he was not so sure he would have come out of the event able to see the world in the same light.

 

Melkor had brought a pillow, among other things, outside. He lay on his back, the discomfort in his jaw was most likely too great to tolerate otherwise, limps spread like some kind of slate-grey, weird starfish as he stared into the sky.

When Melkor had been a child, he had suffered from mineral deficiencies; Terrible ones that had, at times, made his father fear for his life. His father, well meaning, always worried and cursed with awful luck, had been advised to give his son a newfangled kind of dietary supplements. They had contained, of all things, silver.

 

If ingested, silver would corrode into silver salt as it reached the stomach. It had traveled through Melkor's blood, spread like wildfire, at first unseen. And then, one day, Melkor had turned grey.

 

The lawsuit that had followed had been one for the ages, with assets seized and reputations forever tarnished, Iluvatar had raged like a maddened, angered god. In the end, Melkor had been granted millions in damages, had become slate-grey forever and did not seem to particular care about either of these things.

 

Behind him was the mount of the fire ants that had come with the property and could not be moved for the simple reason that Melkor had utterly fallen in love with the pesky little things. There was, however, something not right with the whole picture. More than ususal.

 

There seemed to be a chocolate cake stuffed halfheartedly into the opening of the hill, smeared chocolate absolutely swarmed by ants like a living carpet of hungry maws. Or half of a cake, come to think of it, the other half had been hurled against the rowan tree framing the grass edge of the garden.

 

Aulë blinked, frowned confused and tilted his head in thought. When his brain began screaming, he stopped. “Melkor, what-”

 

“Why can't I do good?” Melkor asked, woozy and badly slurring his words. A grey hand wiped a grey forehead and Melkor groused as he most likely was still dizzy.

 

“If by good you mean funneling a cake through a small hole, then I do believe the laws of nature just stands in your way...” Aulë shrugged. “Or physics. One of these things...”

 

Melkor spewed foul words, words which, had any of Aulë's children said them would have led to copious amounts of soap being used to wash out the filth of such language. But Melkor was an adult, though he did not act like it and also he had currently holes in his jaw and soap would most likely not help. And so Aulë allowed Melkor to ramble and curse until there seemed nothing more elaborate than juvenile name-calling forthcoming. “You know what I mean.”

 

“I'm sure I don't; Other than that those are just the drugs talking,” It sounded much less sympathetic than Aulë would have liked hearing from himself. But with Melkor too much sympathy was a wasted resource.

 

People would generally be rather sympathetic when they heard of Melkor. Was it not terrible unfair that a young child had to endure such a terrifying thing as silver poisoning? The bullying of his peers must have been terrible, they would think.

 

And then Melkor would stuff a potato into their cars exhaust pipes because he wished to see what would happen or spread rumours because he could.

 

Melkor was not kind and possessed no empathy. He was petty and he was cruel. Worst of all, he was a coward. And he had no desire to change himself. And so Aulë shrugged and waited until Melkor was ready to go inside and sleep his hangover out.

 

He looked upon the foods still in his fridge and pulled a grimace but did not refuse Aulë's offering of soup when he woke up.

 

* * *

 

 

Manwë was ready to go home, his hair was still damp and drawn into a tight bun. Two strands on either side of his ears made it look a little less firm, a little less serious.

 

Aulë offered to drive him home for Manwë did sway a little too much for Aulë's comfort and letting him drive would not be advisable. Not that Manwë complained. He merely gathered his luggage he had still with him, threw his ice skates over his shoulder and fell onto the passenger seat.

 

“I will come back tomorrow and get the car,” said Manwë and nodded sleepily towards his own car as Aulë turned the key.

 

“Do that, there is no rush. I will come back later and make him something to eat,” Aulë hummed, “Would it make sense to freeze extra for him later?”

“Perhaps for the best, if you wish to give yourself the extra work.”

And Aulë, who never minded hard work, smiled as he drove Manwë home.

 


End file.
